I would rather wrap up my face in bandages like the Invisible Man, than be seen as a Eurasian man.

I don’t think that the end of one’s life should be taken lightly nor do I think there is anything wonderful and magical about life. Life is the possibility of our experiences, and if all that I can hope to experience is universal hatred based on my races, then my only hope is escape. The comment by SWPL that White-Asian hybrids are
atheistically pleasing is very powerful for me. It is true, when you see a hybrid, it kills any enchantment about the sacredness of the world. You see we are just DNA and arrangement of atoms driven by natural and sexual selection. I’m just the manifestation of WMAF DNA, and I see nothing wrong with dissolving the bonds that link my genes together. To break down the bridge between East and West. That is what I’m after all, the human bridge between 2 civilizations. It is a bridge, I’d rather jump off of, rather than having people walk on my back.

Go back to Asia. That is more of a school yard taunt than serious personal advice. Nonetheless I had considered it for a while. That would be a true marking of my defeat. My whole life I have wanted the half-whiteness in my to be recognized. The fact that I’m equally as much white as I’m Asian, and don’t want to be defined by my Asianess. By going back to Asia, I would be admitting that I’m nothing but an Asian. But in a way I was a victim of my own arguments. I wished that my mom had stayed in Asian and married an Asian man. And my dad had married a white, black, indian, arab, latina, woman. Anything but Asian really. And my hypothethical half-brothers would have lead much better lives. I romanticized the collectivist Confucian beehive I could have been born into, rather than being trampled under the dog eat dog world of American individualism. If it is so much better to be an Asian man in Asia compared to a Eurasian man in America, why not just go back to Asia? Mind you, I wouldn’t be going back there to get my own WMAF, as so many on this blog have suggested. Surely if you have read a single entry of mine, you know the disgust with which I hold WMAF. To suggest that I myself WMAF is a mockery for everything I stand for. And yes, I do consider myself to be a White man in that context. No, if I went back to Asia, I would live like a celibate Buddhist monk. But at least, even with the globalization of American culture, I would for once be living with people who look like me. Not a minority of 2%. Not surrounded by people who despise me. I’ve only been to my mom’s country 3 times for rather brief visits. I have no real connection to Asia, other than the fact that Americans consider me to be Asian. This is a case of society creating its own
self-fulfilling reality. Because America has told me, that I’m nothing but an Asian, that is what I have become. And my white dad, might as well have never have existed. I’m his son in name only. In some ways I would be closer to him, if I shared none of his genes, and was an Asian adoptee. At least then I could be grateful for him, taking me in, when I’m not his biological son. I don’t feel any gratitude that he created me with my Asian mom. I feel anger at it, as this blog makes clear. The point is, I don’t see running away to Asia as a real option any more. And I no longer consider it.

My destiny is in America. I was born in America of a white dad, and wont leave it except in my death. My story is going to end in America, sooner rather than later. I’m not going to integrate back into the Asian hive. My death is made in America. It is American society that created my suicide, let them mop up my corpse.

What possible life can I look forward to? How am I supposed to get a job and work among bosses, coworkers and women who hate and despise me? I have no motivation, to do things as a Eurasian male. I don’t deny that I have my personal issues. But the life of the “normal” “average” Asian-American male is nothing to aspire to. I wont life a finger to live that life. I wont bother to learn an Asian language, or do math problems or get a STEM degree. I want to be a fat and lazy white American. I wont be a hard worker. Family Guy did a segment on God creating Asian men to be sexless, small-dicked robotic worker drones. I would rather be a good for nothing Peter Griffin. That is why I wont get help, and wont make any effort to be ‘normal’. The life of a ‘normal’ Eurasian man is not worth living, and I refuse to live it.

I resign from the Eurasian race. I resign from the human race. I refuse to play the role I was assigned. I wear the costume and mask of a Eurasian man. So no choice I make get let me escape it. The only way to take the mask off, is to smash my face through the mirror. Other than that, people will always see the Eurasian in me. I would rather wrap up my face in bandages like the Invisible Man, than be seen as a Eurasian man.

What experiences do I have to look forward to as a Eurasian? Universal rejection and hatred. Not just by women mind you. Even in my boyhood elementary school days, before I even noticed girls, I already knew I didn’t want to be the son of an Asian mom. I wanted everyone to know I was Eurasian. Not to celebrate being a bridge between east and west. But to cover up the East. When I tell people I’m Eurasian, its not like they need to know about the Asian part. They can see it in my face. Its the Euro part I need to inform them apart. If I could entirely conceal the Asian part of me, I would have done it when I was 4 years old. There isn’t any life as a Eurasian man, that I would want to live. The only good thing to do with my life, is to sacrifice it, so that people will know what it means to be a Eurasian man.

I agree with CodeWench. The city I live in now is so extremely diverse, everyone is accepting of whatever race someone is. People make friends here make friends based on personality and interests, not color.

White women don’t hate Asian men as much as Asian women hate Asian men. That’s why us children suffer so badly, because of the sheer hatred of white women (from our dads) and of Asian men (from our moms).

Sorry, but I don’t see the hate. Each person has their own preferences. I don’t know many Asian women, so I can’t vouch for all of them, but honestly, just give me an Asian man (preferably with the same ethnic background as me) with morals and values that I agree with, respects his family, is fit, wears clothes that properly fit him, and happens to be at least an inch taller than me (not a problem for most guys) and I guarantee you that I will be infatuated with him. That’s my checklist in a nutshell for any man, not just Asians. However, I am confident that there are Asian men out there that meet those things I listed. (‘Cause I’ve met a few guys that do. And they make me skip a beat or two. They really do.) I just haven’t found one for me yet.

You’re such a great writer it amazes me. 🙂
But you’re right, going “back” to Asia won’t do much. It didn’t for me. Visiting my mom’s country only made me know that I would never fit in there. Growing up where I did, I was seen as “the Asian” since I was the only one in most of my classes. In my mom’s country, I would get stares on the streets and store clerks would immediately question my mom where I’m from. The people there knew. They knew I was a foreigner to their land, that I didn’t belong. And mind you, I’m pretty sure that I’m at least 94% Asian. I might have some Spaniard blood in me way back yonder, but that’s it. Somehow I look so different from the rest of my family that I use to wonder if I were actually related to them.

Visiting another country did help me realize that I have something more than Asians in Asia do: I am an Asian American. Even though I’m stuck in the middle of the two (I won’t ever get the chance to be the typical American and I’ll never be a fully accepted Asian), I get to experience the best (and worst) of both worlds. I’ve learned to appreciate my relationships with people not for what color they are, but for who they really are on the inside–what their opinions are and what they have to say.

By accepting who I am, I’ve been able to accept and appreciate others and people demonstrate the same feelings back. When I did that, I began to feel accepted and loved. And I know you can do the same.

I know for a fact that not everyone hates or despises you, because I, for one, don’t. I keep postponing my homework just so I can read your blog and respond to you. Your life matters to me. But I can’t tell you what to do.